


Lead the Way

by drunklesbian



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Smut, Teacher/Student, Underage Drinking, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:43:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunklesbian/pseuds/drunklesbian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘I accidentally banged my teacher’ Bellarke AU, in which Clarke is a high-school student who’s out looking for fun and Bellamy turns out to be her history teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lead the Way

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiii! So last week or so I saw a tumblr post with different AUs and when I read through them I was inspired to write some Bellarke AU, and the teacher/student relationship thing has always interested me. (don't judge me)  
> This is pretty much my first fanfic ever (let's not count the one-chapter fic I wrote two years ago for The Mortal Instruments) and english isn't my native language so I guess there'll be some mistakes (I'm especially bad at the tenses) so I'm sorry for that, I tried my best.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

***

She had noticed him after the fifth song, when her shirt was already soaked with sweat, her limbs heavy from dancing and her eyes hurting from the dim light.

He was standing at the bar, staring at her. She didn't mind it, he wasn't doing it in a gross way. It was the stare Clarke got before they’d come over and ask her for a dance.

She hoped he would come over soon as she was getting exhausted. But he stayed where he was, sipping at his drink and not once taking his eyes off her. Clarke couldn’t just ignore such a beauty – he was drop dead gorgeous – so she set off to the bar, swaying her hips to the last note of the song.

“A beer, please.” Usually now she’d get asked for her ID, but Lincoln – the barman – was a friend of her, so being under aged wasn’t a problem. With her drink in her hand she turned to Mr. Handsome, only to discover that he was still staring at her.

“You know, you should quit the staring. It’s getting kinda weird.” He looked away at that, keeping his eyes at his drink.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ogle you. I’ve just never seen anyone move like that… it was mesmerizing.” He looked back at her and smiled and it made his whole face go soft. “You’re a professional?”

Clarke got that question almost every time she was at the club and every time she just brushed it off. Therefore it surprised her when the truth slipped out of her.

“I took classes during the beginning of high-school and am currently teaching myself. It’s the thing I’m truly passionate about.”

She didn’t know why she did it. Something about this stranger pressed her to be honest. It wasn’t that Clarke was ashamed of what she did, she loved it and was damn good at it. She just didn’t want some stranger she would never see again know that about her. She liked to keep the introductions short, ideally she didn’t even have to give her name. It was all just mindless fun, with no strings and promises. Not one guy or girl has ever minded or asked for more. That’s what Clarke loved about The Ark, people came here just for a quick hook-up.

Mr. Handsome here looked out of place. He wasn’t drunk nor high, his eyes on guard as he kept looking down at her.

“So why then are you dancing in a club full of sweaty, drunk teenagers instead of a fancy dance studio?”

_Fancy dance studio?_ You could hardly call the smelly old school gym Clarke gave classes every Monday and Thursday a fancy dance studio. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Well, I needed company for a change. I go here pretty often, and see you for the first time.”

“I’m not exactly what you would call the ‘clubbing guy’, but my friend got a job today, so we’re out celebrating.

Clarke looked over the table he nodded at and saw three guys drinking shots. On a closer look… “Is he wearing a cowboy hat?”

Mr. Handsome sighed and shook his head. “It’s a long story. I’m Bellamy, by the way.”

Clarke took his outstretched hand but didn’t offer her own name. “It’s nice to meet you, Bellamy.” She smiled at him and was regarded with a frown. For the next moment he stayed silent, as if waiting for her to go on. When Clarke didn’t, he just shook his head and laughed.

“I’m now going to be completely honest, okay?”

Clarke nodded. She had told him about her classes, so now it was his turn.

“I like you. You’re attractive and I just can’t stop looking at you.”

She smiled at that. She liked this honesty thing.

“And I live only two blocks away.”

Her smile widened. She _definitely_ liked this honesty thing.

She gave him her hand and said, “Lead the way.”

***

The ride to his apartment was tense. They didn’t talk, didn’t listen to the radio, they didn’t even glance at each other.

The air was full of anticipation, Clarke could feel it on her skin. Her fingertips tingled from anticipation to explore his broad body, her mouth from anticipation to taste him, her legs from anticipation to lock them around his hips, her-

“We’re here.”

In the rush to the door Clarke noticed three things. First: he lived only ten minutes away from her. Second: his last name was Blake. Third: she hadn’t felt that excited since her dad got her tickets for the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

It took Bellamy a moment to unlock the door, as Clarke noticed his hands were shaking. She wasn’t the only eager one.

Once he opened the door and they stepped in insanity took over.

Clarke was pressed against the door and before she could take another breath his mouth crashed on hers.

_Heaven’s hell_. It wasn’t a gentle first kiss, with the tension between them gentle was impossible. It was hard and demanding, his tongue hungrily exploring the depths of her mouth. She gasped, overwhelmed with his taste – sweet and minty with a touch of alcohol. He was kissing her with such a need and urgency she couldn’t even process. She answered him with the same longing, biting hip upper lip and sucking on it. His moan made her knees go weak and she started to shake off her jacket and shoes, thanking God for deciding against her boots this morning.

Bellamy started kissing her jaw, moving to her neck, nibbling on her pulse.

_Skin_. Clarke needed skin. She moved her hands under his shirt, her fingers finally exploring his broad chest. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel that he was built perfectly.

“How much do you work out?”

He bit her shoulder. “Shut up.”

Clarke would be lying if she said that his bossy tone didn’t turn her on, it was fucking sexy as hell.

He helped her take his shirt off and navigated them through the room to what Clarke guessed was his bedroom. She didn’t get to take a look around as he unbuttoned her blouse and started stroking her hard nipples through her bra. She stifled her moan by kissing his throat, tasting his sweat and inhaling his raw, masculine scent. She preferred this to the girls she hooked up with, as they usually smelled like fruit or vanilla.

Bellamy got her out of her blouse and went to undo her bra. Or more like tried to. Amused, Clarke asked, “Need help with that?”

“I- eh- yeah, I think it’s stuck or something.”

Laughing she undid her bra and threw it next to her shirt. It would be easier getting dressed later if everything’s in one place.

He navigated them to the bed, his mouth never leaving hers, his hands moving to her jeans. He didn’t have a problem taking these off and soon Clarke was standing naked and hard breathing in this stranger’s bedroom, her skin on fire from his kisses and caressing fingers.

She started fiddling with his belt when his hands stopped her.

“Wait. I don’t even know your name.”

“For _this_ you don’t need to know.” She finally got his belt off and was about to undo is button when he again stopped her.

“No it… it doesn’t have to be that way. At least tell me your name.”

She sat down on the corner of his bed and looked up at him. No one has ever been so insistent just to get her name, not when she was butt-naked in their bedroom.

“It’s Clarke”, she said and pulled down his jeans and underwear. Before he could come up with anything else she put his erection in her mouth.

“Oh fuck, Clarke.”

She could get high on this, in control with his dick in her mouth.

She started taking him in deeper and deeper each time, seeing his fists clench at his sides, his chest moving with hard breaths. He was fighting for control, she could see it in his face.

Clarke wanted to see him come undone like this, hovering over her, but he had something else in mind. He slipped out of her, face pained.

“Get on the bed.”

She obliged, laying her head on a pillow, waiting patiently for whatever was to come.

He parted her legs, getting down between them. He started kissing a path from her breasts down to her stomach, kissing across her hips to her inner thighs. When his mouth came down to the part she ached for him the most every single thought left her.

He licked her once, twice, and drew a line with his finger from her calf to her pussy, putting one in her. Moving inside of her he started sucking on her clit, his pace getting faster and faster.

She was dying from desire, her whole body flush and craving for more. She needed his weight on her.

“Bellamy, I need you. Now.”

He crashed down on her, touching her everywhere. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, thighs to thighs.

He reached out for something in his drawer and pressed a foil wrapper in her hand. She tore it open and rolled it over him.

Clarke couldn’t wait anymore, she locked her legs around his hips, bit his lip and whispered, “ _Now_.”

He entered her with one fast stroke. When he filled her they stayed still for a minute, savouring this moment.

He then started thrusting into her, hard and fast, keeping his eyes on her face.

Clarke slipped her hands on his ass, taking him in deeper into her. She had never felt so filled.

She couldn’t take his stare, so she kissed him, right before she let go and cried out. He came with her, nails biting into her hips, head falling on her breasts.

Clarke tried to even out her breathing and collect her thoughts when he looked up at her. She couldn’t read his expression, but he looked happy.

He kissed her and gently pulled out of her, rolling to her side. He kept looking at her and Clarke couldn’t meet his gaze so she stared up the ceiling.

_What had just happened?_

She could feel the panic rising in her, messing up her breathing. She had to get out. Clarke got up and set off to her clothes. She could feel him starring at her while she got dressed. She didn’t turn when he cleared his throat.

“Um, you’re leaving?”

Zipping up her jeans she forced herself to turn around and smile. “Yeah, I have a meeting in the morning I can’t miss. It was nice to meet you, you should call me sometime.”

She didn’t wait for him to tell her that they didn’t exchange numbers, she just went to the door.

Cursing behind her, she heard him get up. “Wait, at least let me drive you home or something. It’s three a.m. in the morning.”

Holding up her phone she said, “It’s okay, I’ll just call a taxi.”

Without looking back she went out of the door, nearly running home. Clarke regretted every step she took.

***

Clarke had always loved Mondays. They felt like a new beginning. If something significant happened during the weekend she would decide on Monday how it would affect her and her life.

Like Bellamy. She had thought about him and the night they’ve had spent together for the whole weekend. Monday morning she decided to stop thinking about him. It would do her no good.

She even made a list. Mission new beginning:  
1.) stop thinking about Bellamy  
2.) ask Raven to repair her phone that she has smashed against the wall while thinking about Bellamy  
3.) stop going to The Ark and look for a new club

Roaming through the school’s halls Saturday night seemed so far away, for a moment Clarke had convinced herself that it had been a dream. The best dream she’d ever had. A dream that had made her feel more alive than her past eighteen years of life.

She sighed. It’s not like Clarke has never had good sex. She has slept with guys and girls who were probably more experienced than Bellamy. But no one had ever made her crave for more. And she usually didn’t think of them the next day in the shower and while doing homework and while driving to school.

Clarke was getting desperate. She needed to get it out of her system, so she couldn’t wait for her dance classes after school. The only thing standing between her and her release was her last class: history.

She had always loved school, learning new things and getting into debates with students and teachers. But today classes couldn’t pass faster. It didn’t help that her favourite teacher Mr. Wallace was sick and now some mope would probably just watch some historically incorrect movie with them.

Clarke considered skipping, but threw that idea out of her head. This would only anger her mom and look stupid on her record. Hell, she would probably feel bad about it and apologize to the teacher afterwards.

Smiling she turned to her history room. Technically it was still lunch break, but she had no appetite. She could as well suffer alone in silence between creepy portraits of Bush and Obama.

When she stepped into the room she immediately regretted her decision about skipping class.

_Fuck_.

***

At the teacher’s desk stood no other than Bellamy Blake. He was dressed in casual dark jeans with a simple green t-shirt and his dark curls forming a messy crown on his head. He couldn’t look better.

He hadn’t noticed her yet as he was looking through some papers. Clarke started backing away slowly when he lifted his head and spotted her.

Shock. His expression was one of pure shock and confusion. If the situation would have been different Clarke would have laughed, but the just froze in her spot, starring right back at him.

Neither of them said anything for what seemed an hour. Clarke couldn’t find her voice.

Bellamy, _or should she say Mr. Blake?_ , eventually cleared his throat. “So, you’re a high-school student.”

It wasn’t a question, and Clarke didn’t feel the need to explain. When she finally found her voice she said, “And you’re a teacher.”

She wanted it to sound like a question because then he maybe could have told her that _no, of course I’m not a teacher_. But here he was standing, hands white from chalk.

“Technically I’m an intern. I’m not a teacher yet, I’m still in college. Dante- I mean Mr. Wallace asked me to take over his class while he’s sick, so yeah…”

_Dante_. He’s on first-name-basis with her history teacher. Clarke had no idea what to say, there was nothing left to say. She thanked God when in this exact moment the bell rang and students started to rush into the room.

Clarke sat down in the seat closest to the door and stared at the table. Sometimes she just hated the universe.

***

To be fair, he was an excellent teacher. He won the class over with his easy smile and humour. He was laid-back and patient, starting the lesson with a discussion about Germany’s Secret State Police. He let everyone add their opinion and comment, listening carefully. By the end of the lesson he had everyone charmed, even Anya who usually didn’t give a crap about anything anyone ever said.

Clarke had noticed some of the girls observe him too closely and giggle too loudly, but who could blame them. She herself hadn’t spoken up once in class, though she had watched a documentary on this topic with her dad some years ago. She also couldn’t sit tight in class, her mind replaying Saturday night. She looked everywhere but his eyes.

When the final bell rang and students got to leave the room Clarke stayed at her table, pretending to pack her bag. She had to wait quite a while as several students stayed to chat with the new, witty teacher. After the last student finally vanished, Clarke set off.

“Clarke, wait.”

She stopped at the door.

“Can we please talk?”

Taking in a shaky breath she turned the lock on the door and went to the teacher’s desk. She kept her eyes on Bellamy’s when she sat down on it, only a hand away from him standing at the board. When he stayed where he was she put a hand on his shirt, feeling his heart beating rapidly. Then she fisted his collard, dragged him down and crashed his mouth on hers.

The kiss was hard and deep, but ended quickly as he pulled away.

“What… what are you doing?”

She looked up at him, biting her lip. “Well, you’re only technically my teacher, right?”

He laughed at that, but it had a bitter note in it. “No, I mean, you left on Saturday.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. You just… you made me feel… things, and I got scared.”

His face softened at that. “And you’re not scared now?”

“I’m terrified and bat-shit crazy for doing this, but I want you.”

There was no turning back now and Clarke hoped she won’t regret this. Without thinking further, she kissed him again.

And he kissed her back.  
***


End file.
